


The King of the Damned

by Oculus_Cinders



Category: Original work/See you in hell
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Blood, Body Horror, Cults, Dark, Disembowelment, ESPECIALLY to kids, Even to kids, Excessive gun use, Gen, I mean this is like a fever dream, In a certain way, I’m not saying who Alex is, Language, Non-modern society, Size Difference, So Dark, Sweet bby jesus, Viscera, When I say “original”, With the pole and the hands and so much blood, and Alex is the devil, at least, bad things happen, because Alex is Alex, but he’s not right, but only if you think about it, everyone sees it that way, it's complicated - Freeform, not sexual though, oh god I get nauseous just thinking about it, well kinda, well kinda rapey, well kinda sexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 11:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11873622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oculus_Cinders/pseuds/Oculus_Cinders
Summary: This was it, this was how he died: in a corner that smelled of steel and piss.Everyone was dead, and he couldn’t change that.Now he was dying too, so he tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply...





	The King of the Damned

**Author's Note:**

> Will update ASAP but not currently able to

* * *

"how long has it been, now?"

There was no reply.

"A year, maybe?"

Again, silence.

"A year in hell, then. An entire year of..." There wasn't much light, but you could hear the faint rustling of fabric as he gestured a kind of 'fuck-all-here' motion. 

Basically flinging your arms out as far as possible from your body and swiveling your wrists.

The name attached to the voice was called Zach. 

He was currently talking at the shadowed form of something that had not moved in three hours. Something that was deliberately staying very,  _very_ still.

It wore, from what little could be discerned, a T-shirt, combats, and thick military boots, a stark contrast to the sauve sharpness of the other, who wore a blazer, vest, dress shirt, and tie, along with a black trilby.

The unnamed thing sat, like it had for three hours, half curled on the floor.

The floor of the box.

The box they were in.

_the box they couldn't get out of._

For a year, or more like a year and a half, Zach and his silent, partner had been inside a dark, empty box.

With walls 2 feet thick.

And made of carbonised steel.

And the whole thing was currently about 5 feet below ground.

It was quite obvious that when they had gone in, they weren't supposed to come back out.

At least,  _not for a damn long time._

Zach chuckled to himself, like he had remembered an old joke.

"It’s funny. That it’s me. Have you noticed that? Of everyone, of anyone, it was me you ended up with.”

Maybe it was another punishment. Another way of torturing him.

at Least it wasn’t Anton.

Anton, he understood.

Anton was why they were here.

But no one else? Not Sutai, not Rachel, not Marcus, not even one of his elders.

It just didn’t make sense. Why  _him?_

There was no reply.

Not one word from the Other.

absolute.

total.

_silence._

* * *

 

it was cold.

Zach realised this.

it was cold, here. Of course it was, neither of them produced any body heat, after all.

”would they forgive you?”

the words were quiet, solemn.

”for what you did? Would they forgive you?”

Zach didn’t expect an answer, but he got one. ” _ **No**_.”

the voice was a pit.

an endless, tumbling abyss.

it rolled out the back of the throat like a growl, an unfathomable deepness rippling the air.

it was startling, in its inhumanity.

Zach composed himself, “w-what?”

He did want an answer this time. “I said,  _ **No**_ _ **.** ”_

The Pit continued, “No, they won’t forgive me. You don’t do what I did and get forgiveness.”

Zach pried himself from the wall, and kneeled, like he was about to present a ring from his pocket, to look at the curled figure on the floor.

”you did what you had to do.” His words were comforting, and warm.

in spite, the reply was like being impaled by an icicle. “But not what I could’ve done!”

There was a pause of stunned silence.

“Not...Not what I could’ve done...I could’ve saved them, could’ve...could’ve...” the voice trailed off, a tone easily put as shame emphasised the last words.

it grew quieter, after that. The only sound was of breathing, which was fainter than faint, considering Zach had never needed much oxygen anyway, and the Other...the other was complicated.

longer, the quiet became.

”conversation” stopped and started.

eventually there was nothing.

Zach began thinking to himself.

Maybe he should prepare, find a comfortable corner to live in.

They were going to be here for a while, anyway.

 

”Have you noticed it yet?

 Zach lifted his head in response, and replied with “noticed...what?

there was a wet, rough sound and the shifting of fabric.

”it’s cold.”

Zach only stared dumbly at the other, his train of thought derailed and burning.

” _what._ ” It was more of a statement than anything. A demand for some kind of reasoning.

You could _hear_ the Other’s grin as he began to explain. “It is cold. That is different. We have been here for, like you said, a year and a half, and not once, not for a moment, has the temperature dropped a single degree.”

realisation dawned on Zach’s face, damn near knocking him over.

”oh. _Oh.“_

thin, spidery limbs twisted to support the great heaving form of the Other as he stood.

slowly, he pawed around the room, fingers ghosting across the blank, nearly featureless walls, using his digits and their sensitive nerves as feelers.

finally, he found what he was looking for, registering it with a small “ah” and cupping both of his hands and, more importantly, his fingers around a smooth, sanded corner.

Making his long fingers into a flat, brick-like fist, he delivered the first blow of many into this thing that had kept him prisoner for so long, yelling his reasoning between impacts in a detached near-hysteria.

” _TEMPERATURE CHANGE. EQUALS. ENTROPY. ENTROPY. MEANS. DEGRIDATION. DEGRIDATION. MEANS. WEAKNESS. WEAKNESS. MEANS_ -“ his knuckles bleeding and raw, he delivered one final punch. “ ** _FREEDOM_**!“

The sound of the hated metal buckling away from the striking of fists, snapping hinges and screws from their sockets and holes was one that had been in their dreams for many, many months.

Trembling, mangled fingers hooked onto the metal, gripping as hard as the worn joints allowed.

with as much strength as his thin, atrophied body could muster, The Other pulled down on the hole he had made, and there was more of that blessed sound as metal was ripped from the grasp of rivets and bolts, and the dirt that it had supported fell to the floor.

at last, there  was light. Red, brilliant light.

The tall one turned, no, "turned" is moving your body. They  _pivoted their spine_ towards the comparetively shorter blond, and for the first time, Zach could see the decayed, ghoulish features on the behemoth’s face, the sunken pits of their eyes.

With shining, crooked teeth, He said "Going up", Reached His impossibly long arms upwards, gripped, and hauled himself up.

* * *

The moon was red.

deep, endless, red.

This alone was not disturbing.

No, that was everything else. Like the birds being in havoc all day, and the sudden spryness of spiders and their kin.

But worst, was the silence. The endless, deafening,  _silence_.

Not a raven, or a crow, or a pigeon made a single sound. No calls. No chirping, not even the rustle of leaves.

It made a man weary, to be alone in the night. A weariness made heavier by the utter removal of that which would comfort you.

It was for this reason, did Jack leave his home in the evening and take a walk in the fields, a vain hope that it would calm the creeping fear in his mind.

Jack was a good ways from his home when finally, there was a noise to disturb the silence.

But it was not the rustling sound of field mice, or the hardened flaps of wings that greeted him. It was the soft clicking of motors and gears.

There was a shift, like a great pressure was exerted on the air, and, well.

from the solid ground, under the most eerie of nights, where the moon itself had bled, a man, no, calling it a manwas a lie,  _a thing, a thing with claws and teeth and terrible crooked limbs_ hauled its body from what Jack assumed to be hell itself.

It did not notice him, not yet.

It seemed to stretch, bend and bow, like a man was known to do after a long rest, but wrong, somehow. Branches of flesh and bone cracked and popped, joints pivoted and snapped in their sockets.

Finally, it straightened, or straightened as much as a creature of its height and stature could, and glanced around.

Then, at last, it did see Jack.

and Jack saw it.

Unsteady, Heavy footsteps, lurching, uncanny movement.

Then it was infront of Him.

A shining green eye stared at the strange little ape before it, running over the limbs so small compared to the endless, claw-tipped poles it had.

”H-hello.” Was all He could think to say.

its face shifted, from bemusement to…something else.

for a single, terrified moment, Jack thought he might have angered it.

“ ** _Hello_**.”

the voice was like the bottom had dropped out of it, it simply got deeper and deeper without end, without light, and without life.

the hollowed, sunken features twisted again, into a yet more incomprehensible pattern.

”D-do um, you n-need anything?”

it was instinctual, really. A simple question.

” _Directions.”_

The voice was no longer the endless, unfathomable roar of the leviathan, it was now more akin to something wrapping itself around your throat. Gone, was the divine terror that wrenched your very soul. Now there was...a _wrongness._ like you were looking at something that wasn’t supposed to be there.

“D-Directions?” His voice was a whisper, a faint breath smothered by the sheer unknowable vastness of this, this _thing._

_“Yes, I am...”_ a pause as it thought of what to say. “ _New._ ”

Every location within 20 miles Jack could remember flooded his fear-addled mind.

”w-well, u-uh” he thought he should probably start with the important ones. “Th-there’s a, uh, f-farm not long to the south,” Jack realised he was sweating. Profusely. “P-p-past that, there’s Sonata.”

the Goliath’s gaze became questioning. Where before the fear of god had been contained to its speech, it was now merely its _presence_ that blossomed the unmistakable terror of the divine.

” _Sonata?”_

”y-yeah, it’s a town, p-pretty, uh, p-pretty big.“

“ _And which way is that_?” It spoke with finality. Like this was the last thing it would say.

a trembling, slickened finger jerked to the left.

with the all the grace and fluidity of a corpse, It moved to turn, pivoted, and left.

Jack felt the cold hand of death loosen its grip, and breathed a sigh of relief, deciding that yes, his bed sounded rather comfortable now, silence be damned.

”thank him.” Zach’s voice was polite, but stern. Like a mother scolding her child.

” _what._ ” The voice was not that of the proverbial child, but more like the voice of the fear within them, dry and cold, without feeling, and without humanity.

”you heard me. If it helps, it would be a tactical advantage. First impressions and all.”

The sound of harsh muttering accompanied the sound of cold earth crunching ‘neath heavy footfall well, as it did that strange turn that only moved half the body at a time.

Jack had barely taken a dozen steps when he heard footsteps behind him.

 He did not turn to face this thing that even hell had spat from its maw, for the simple reason that he couldn’t.

” ** _I have been told,_** ” there were no words for this presence anymore. No name and no sound. Nothing could describe the pressure it exerted on the air, no explanation for the feeling it inflicted. “ ** _That I should thank you._** ”

again, it heaved its limbs away, bringing itself with them.

**Author's Note:**

> Hang on, need to do something.  
> Draft function doesn't work, so this is here for a bit, still though, hang on, still working on it.


End file.
